


Piece of Heck LoTR Self-Insert Fic I Wrote When I Was 11

by Finwe_the_disappointed



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 1960s era slang, I hated them, I’d been binging The Twilight Zone ok, There’s also, Yes this is a girl falls into middle earth fic, and also capitalism, hmm what else is there, oh yes my past self slandering the elves, uninformed ramblings about communism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-09 17:30:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19891642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finwe_the_disappointed/pseuds/Finwe_the_disappointed
Summary: After a dispute over the ideal means of production, 11-year-old me falls into Middle Earth. Basically the same plot as every falling-into-ME story ever, except I pretend to be a boy because I don’t trust Aragorn’s motives. Disclaimer: I was an idiot ok





	1. Chapter 1

It was a deceptively nice day.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves cast a honey-colored net on the picnic table where I was sitting with my math group. We were supposed to be working on our poster board, but instead we were talking about capitalism.

“It’s ruining the economy!” Said Billy.

I told him, “You’re only saying that to sound cool.” Billy’s kind of an idiot. He probably doesn’t know the difference between communism and socialism.

“Really,” he retorted, “are you saying you support the wealthy trapping everyone else in a corrupt system they can never get out of?”

“No,” I responded, “I think everyone should live on a farm. The farms would be sovereign nations, and everyone could make their own rules so they could live with the consequences of their own bad decisions if they planned it wrong, instead of anyone else suffering for it.”

Billy didn’t have a response to that, so he began throwing markers at me.

“Stop that,” I demanded, but of course he didn’t. In hindsight I probably should’ve fought back but instead I got up and ran as fast as I could, which isn’t very fast.

He chased me, and I ran towards the bank (the land formation, not a money bank), deciding to jump in the river. As I launched myself face-down over the edge, I realized that there WAS no river - the sun had dried it up, and now I was in for a very hard landing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I opened my eyes slowly. Indistinct green shapes swirled overhead. The world seemed to be screened from me by a thick haze of fog and confusion. This smelled of craniocerebral trauma, or at least it might’ve if I hadn’t smashed my nose so badly I couldn’t smell anything. 

I tried to prop myself up on my elbow, but pain slashed through my frail body and I said a very bad word. That’s when I noticed I was in the middle of a forest that HADN’T EXISTED A MOMENT AGO, and I said another bad word, but not as bad as the first one.

I read a lot of books where kids fall into other worlds. Those kids always turn out to be “special” or “chosen” or “heroes,” and I suddenly felt very nervous because I wanted nothing more than to be just another anonymous and insignificant part of a large collective. “Wow,” I say to myself, “maybe communism wouldn’t be so bad.” Wait, what did I just say? I must’ve hit my head harder than I’d thought.

As I was lying there contemplating my fate, I heard the distant beat of hoof beats. As I listened they grew closer, and closer, and closer, until they stopped in the bushes in front of me. I heard a sliding sound, and then the unmistakable noise of footsteps on leaf mulch. Suddenly, the bushes parted, and out stepped a man in outdated clothing I’d never seen before. He looked about 50, but then again I was 11 so everyone over 15 looked 50 to me. He had wavy shoulder-length brown hair and large brown eyes. I guess he’d be considered hot if you were into that sort of thing (which I wasn’t) and by that sort of thing I mean men. 

He gripped my wrist to check for a pulse.

“Tell me your name. Can you tell me your name?” he asked.

“Billy,” I lied, cautious as always about giving out personal information.

“You’re a boy?” He asked, sounding surprised.

“Absolutely. Yup, definitely a boy,” I responded. I didn’t want him getting any ideas. “What’s YOUR name?”

“I am called Aragorn, but you can call me Gorn, for short.”

I know I’ve heard that name somewhere. “Is this Lord of the Rings?” I’d never seen or read* Lord of the Rings, but I knew enough about it to pretend that I had .

“What”

“Never mind. Thanks for saving me.”

“It’s no bother. We ride swiftly.” (Ara)gorn picked me up and carried me over to his horse, which was very big, and hoisted me up into the saddle.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“To Rivendell, the home of the elves,” he told me.

I felt like I’d just been drop-kicked. “Please just leave me here and let me die.”

*note: this isn’t actually true. I’ve seen Lord of the Rings but I haven’t read it yet because you have to read the Silmarillion first. Also I wanted my character to do something more original than go to Rivendell but I wanted the plot to be familiar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kindly ignore the fact that the Sindarin in this chapter is either heinously bungled or just keysmashing

The sun was sinking over the edge of the world as the path began to descend slowly into the ground, which cracked open and spread into a wide ravine. The golden rays caught on delicate brown arches, sturdy walls and peaked roofs (or is it rooves?? English is stupid). As we rode across a narrow bridge without any railings, a group of elves on horses rode up to greet us.  
“Kjahsfgkhaf,” Gorn greeted them.  
“Kjahsfgkhaf,” they responded cordially. “Qqweruo llkajeifjl aoijfoijjkfjfjalwkefjq?”  
“Asdfkljaslifj.”  
In the end, they put me in a bed in the healing wing, and sent up a guy with soup. The soup turned out to be barszcz (borscht) and I was briefly blinded by rage. However, I was not in a position where I could afford to be picky, so I lay there while Elrond fed me soup and talked about how men are weak.  
“Wasn’t your brother a man?” I asked him.  
“Shut up,” he said.  
The next order of business was to figure out what a kid had been doing alone and wounded in the middle of the woods.  
“Where do you live?” Elrond asked me.  
I wasn’t about to fall into THAT trap. “Valinor.”  
“Hmmm I don’t think so.”  
“It’s true. I came over here aboard a stolen ship with my dad Fëanor. Aye, what a sorrowful sight that was, their glory consumed in the flames of our unrighteousness.”  
“You sleep now,” Elrond said, and left.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Over the course of the next few days, I slowly gained back my strength, and was allowed to walk around by myself. One day I was strolling through the garden when I ran into a funny looking little guy wispy white hair who was almost exactly my height and looked like Karl Marx.  
“Bilbo Baggins??” I asked incredulously.  
“I see my reputation precedes me,” he said, bowing.  
“How’s your book coming along?”  
Bilbo gives a hearty chuckle. “I start writing one thing, and suddenly I’m struck by a great idea I must write at once, and I abandon my previous work for the new, so that nothing gets done.”  
* * *  
I was eating my nightly borscht in the company of the nurse, Linwe, Elrond had assigned to look over me (he didn’t speak any of the common tongue besides ‘I VANQUISH THEE, FIEND’ which he yelled frequently as he swatted at flies). Suddenly, a great commotion arose in the courtyard. I peered through the window to see an elf lady thundering into the court yard atop a white steed, carrying a liddol green goblin. She looked pretty bad***.

I pointed questioningly at her. 

“Arwen, iel a Elrond,” Linwe explained.

“Dang, she must’ve gotten most of her genes from her mom, because Elrond’s no looker,” I said earnestly.

“I do actually speak Westron. I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

“Oh.” I took a very big bite of borscht.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks.
> 
> The anxiously awaited conclusion to the trilogy.

In the coming days I learned of the arrival of the hoppits in Rivendell. That was exciting, but I’d have to wait quite a while before Frodo woke up, and even longer before the Council of Elrond (and MUCH LONGER to get THROUGH the Council of Elrond).

I passed the time plotting my escape. I’d go so far as to say I was grateful to the elves for taking me in until they figured out what to do with me, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it. 

“I wish there was a way to escape,” I said loudly, ripping a handful of leaves off the bush in front of me.

“There is,” the shrubbery replied.

“AAAAAAHHH!!!” I screamed.

“AAAAAAAHH!” The shrubbery screamed back, flailing its branches and spitting out a hobbit that was either Merry or Pippin. 

He stood up, brushed off his trousers, and fiddled around in his pocket. “You said you needed a way to escape,” he nodded at me. “I’ve got just the thing.”

“In your pocket?” I asked. “What’ve you got in there? A grappling hook?”

“A grappling hook? Naw! All you need is this: go on, give it a try,” and he produced a clay pipe and a bundle of pipe weed.

“Um, is that-”

“Bree-grown Southlinch? Don’t be ridiculous! Only the finest Longbottom Leaves, straight out of the shire,” he looked offended.

“Look, Mr.” I took a wild guess - “Pippin, I’d love to, er, take you up on that kind offer, but you see I’m, umm - allergic to clay. If I took that pipe I’d probably break out in hives.”

His eyes widened, and he took a thoughtful puff. “Ms.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I blinked in confusion.*

“It’s Ms. I’m no boy, laddie. Though - that’s our little secret, ok?”

“What? Wow, that’s - actually, I’m - wait, is Merry a -”

Pippin laughed at my confusion, and leaned in close. “All hobbits are girls,” she whispered loudly.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true! Ask Bilbo. Or Frodo.”

I still wasn’t sure I believed it, but I was too scared to ask further. There was only one thing left to clear up. “Where do hobbit babies come from?”

Pippin stood up straight, puffing her pipe thoughtfully. “No one knows, laddie. No one knows.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later I was sitting in my room when Linwe came in, hands empty of borscht. “Follow me. We are having a kelebratory meal in the common room.”

“A what? Oh, you mean a S- elebratory meal. What are we celebrating?”

Linwe stared at me for a moment, confused, but decided to answer my question instead. “The formation of the Fellowship of the Ring. Come.”

I followed him down one sweeping staircase, up another, and down a third. We walked passed a couple more questionable architectural decisions before entering a great hall, lit with a thousand candles. If an earthquake hit, we were literally toast.

I was about to take my seat when I noticed a familiar face. “BOROMIR!!!” All the elves in the hall leapt a foot off their seats.

Boromir turned to look at me, startled. “I’m Faramir.” Just kidding! He actually said, “hello there, laddie. Have we met before?”

I wove my way through the throng to reach him. I didn’t know what I’d say when I reached him, of course. He was - well, he was Boromir and I was just a little idiot.

“Come now, don’t say that!” Oops, did I say that out loud? “What’s your name, laddie?”

“Ka -” I remembered I was still pretending to be a boy, though I didn’t remember why - “-Billy.”

“Ka-billy? Fine name. Sounds dwarvish.” And he knelt to ruffle my hair and press a coin into my hand. What a cool guy. I wish Boromir was my dad. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I ate dinner at a table with the other guests, who were a lot more interesting than elves. At one point Gorn checked up with me - “How ya holdin in there, Billy?” And introduced me to Gimli and Legolas. 

Gimli gave me a hearty clap that dislocated several of my vertebrae. 

Legolas just stared at me. He reminded me of the toothless guy at the cafe near my house who would stare at you while pretending to drink from an empty cup. “You’re the most gorgeous girl in the world,” Legolas said. “You’re a liar and also a creep” I responded and then I slapped him across the face. 

Or I would’ve, if I was tall enough. Thankfully Gimli was willing to assist. 

I didn’t even have that much against him, I was just mad that he’d blown my cover. 

Skipping ahead in time a bit because I’m tired of writing this,

The Fellowship set out from Rivendell early in the morning. 

“Good luck lads!” Someone called out.

At that, Pippin caught my eye and winked. I winked back at her with both my eyes.

Now that all that business had been taken care of, Elrond decided it was time he figured out where to send me so that the elves of Rivendell could go back to singing their silly songs all night long (I’d graciously accepted his hospitality on the condition that they didn’t).

In the end they sent me to live out my days on a small farm in the middle of nowhere. It suited my tastes.

Unfortunately, that was one of the first farms razed to the ground by Sauron’s army.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I lifted this phrase right out of Warrior Cats

**Author's Note:**

> It’s worth reiterating that 11-year-old me HATED elves with a burning passion.


End file.
